A Bird In His Hand
by ryuzaki4
Summary: NightwingxRobin, TimxDick. Late night training sessions sprout new feelings for Tim Drake. Full Summary Inside. ON HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

**SUMMARY: Feeling that his combat skills could use some room for improvement, Tim Drake, Robin, seeks the aid of Dick Grayson, Nightwing, to teach him new moves. With each late night session, the boy finds that there may be feelings of affection for his mentor. Should he seek out these feelings or continue to believe it is merely infatuation? How does Nightwing feel when he discovers Tim's feelings.**

**I'm starting to get into NightwingxRobin and it kinda freaks me out because I went YEARS without pairing anyone together in the Batman world; it was my yaoi free sanctuary. ONE picture got me hooked on this couple and it drives me insane because I can't find any pictures or stories of them together. So, I decided I'd take matter into my own hands and make some stuff so others of this fandom can enjoy it as well. I don't know whether or not I should continue so I'll put up a little intro and if it gets positive feedback, I'll continue it.**

**-ryuzaki4**

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><p>Robin landed on his back, crashing through the Gotham Toy Co. empty crates. He let out a loud yelp when he felt a protruding nailhead jab his side. <em>That's gonna bruise.<em> He went to sit up only to have Harley Quinn pounce on his chest, forcing him back into the crates, the nailhead now digging into the softest part of flesh on Robin's side. He let out a groan as Harley knelt on the boy, examining him with black lips curled back in a large, entertained smile. She tilted her head before sticking her overly exaggerated in size gun in Robin's face, pressing the cold metal against the sidekick's forehead.

"Look at what I caught, Mr. J," She giggled, "A little birdy fallen from his nest." Joker cackled behind Harley before hopping into view behind her, an even larger grin donning his face as he approached the two. He clapped his leather gloved hand before wringing his fingers, making an eerie sound with his hands as the leather stretched.

"Oooh, excellent job, Harley," He commended, patting the girl on the back. She returned the small sign of affection with a loving sigh, "If there's the baby bird, then Mama Bird can't be too far behind." As if on cue, the sun roof of the toy factory shattered while a looming dark shadow descnded upon the villains and sidekick. "Speak of the bat!" Joker cried as he hurled around to see Batman taking on some of his lackeys.

Distracted, Harley pulled her gun away just enough so that it aimed beside Robin's forehead. Using the small moment, he elbowed the crazed woman in her chest. She stood, shocked and in pain. "Dontcha know it's rude to hit a lady!" She cried, aiming the gun at the boy and shooting it. A round bullet shot from the end, barely grazing the Boy Wonder in his leg as he leapt out of the way. He knelt behind a crate to gather his breath, breathing quietly through his nose as Harley's foosteps rounded around the crate. They stopped a few feet away, allowing Robin to prep himself with several batarangs. He lifted them, ready to attack.

"Little birdy," Harley taunted, sighing loudly. There was the sound of a crate opening and ruffling with some styrofoam. "Have you flown away already?" In an instant, the crate Robin hid behind shattered. He rolled out of harm's way as Harley lifted an over-sized hammer above her head, grinning like the lunatic that she was. "Found youu!" She swung the hammer again, catching Robin's cape as he tried to escape. Once she lifted it again, he hurled the prepared batarangs at the girl and darted off into the shadows again. She shrieked in pain as one of the batarangs grazed her cheek.

"You little brat!" She cried, swinging and destroying any and all crates around her, "That's gonna leave a mark!" Robin went to reach for more weapons when a large hand gripped his shoulder. He spun around and saw Batman standing in front of him. Relief washed over the boy as the Caped Crusader hauled him to his feet.

"Come on," He instructed, looking up at the already broken sunroof, "Joker's got this place rigged with explosives." Robin nodded and shadowed Batman's movements as he shot his bat claw and was lifted out of the building. Behind them was heard the sound of a motor boat and laughter. The two masked heroes landed on the rooftop. Robin gave one glance at the escaping villain before Batman called his attention. The two ran off of the building and leapt onto the nearest rooftop, heading in the direction of home.

"Welcome home Master Bruce," Alfred greeted the two as they entered the cave, "Master Tim." He was holding a tray of fresh fruit and some water for the two. Robin always appreciated the small snacks that Alfred laid out for them after a night out. Batman, Bruce Wayne, began to discard his mask and armor, sighing some as his face came into full view. Robin followed suit, peeling off the black mask that covered his eyes. He blinked several times as the moist skin where his mask once rested cooled at the contact of the cold cave air.

"Master Bruce," Alfred interjected the two's moment of silence as they undressed, "A call for you came today while you were out. It was someone of Gotham Times asking for an interview with you. I told them you were out, but they did leave their number and name in case you desired to contact them again."

"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce stood in a white tanktop and sweats on, a bit out of character for the millionaire bachellor, "I'll finish that once I'm rested. Tim, you should get some rest, too."

"Right," Tim nodded and went to lift his shirt above his head. He stopped midway as a sharp pain rang through his entire rebicage. Bruce came over and helped the boy rid of his shirt to examine the damage.

"What happened?" Bruce asked.

"Harley smashed me into a crate," Explained Tim, "I think it was a nailhead that jabbed my side." Bruce's thumb gently grazed over the purple swollen spot on Tim's ribcage, earning a loud cry from the boy.

"It's only tender," He said, pulling back, "Alfred, take him to see Dick. He should have something for you."

"You won't accompany Master Tim yourself, Master Bruce?" Alfred inquired, going to Tim and offering him some grapes.

"No," Bruce shook his head, starting towards the stairs that lead into Wayne manor. "I have other business to attend to."

"Understood," Alfred set down the tray of fruit and water to help Tim dress himself. "Would you like me to accompany you to see Master Dick?" Tim smiled some, although his side was pulsing in time iwht his heart.

"No thank you, Alfred," He respectfully declined, "But I will accompany you upstairs. You always seem by yourself." Alfred gave a genuine smile and lifted the tray of fruit.

"Shall we, then?" He said, waiting for Tim to step forward first. The two went up the steps into Wayne manor, Alfred speaking of his day and how he found just enough time to polish the new chess set that Master Wayne had given him. Tim listened as much as he could without seeming bored. Alfred had some interesting things to say sometimes, but he still had his own stereotypical old man tendencies. When the two parted ways, Tim paused for a moment, pondering on whether or not to see Dick.

Richard Grayson, Nightwing, was now housing with Bruce Wayne for the time being. He refused to say why he was back in Gotham and decided to live with Tim and Bruce, but Time never questioned it, nor did he really care. Dick was fun to be around when he wasn't tired and Tim didn't mind the extra company. Though, Dick always seemed to be in the gym or out in the streets.

Tim found himself headed towards Dick's room. His socked feet padding up the polished hardwood steps and down the thin hallway that lead to the older boy's room. The door was closed but lights streamed out of the bottom, letting the boy know that the older crime fighter was awake. He knocked twice, the first more gentler than the second. There was the sound of some ruffling of clothes and heavy objects before the door pulled open, exposing Dick Grayson in his own sweats. He leaned against the doorway, looking agitated and tired. His fingers combed through his dark hair before he sighed.

"Well?" He said, raising an eyebrow lazily above his eye.

"Have I caught you at a bad time?" Tim asked, taking a defensive step back, "You seem really angry and -"

"What is it?" Dick straightened himself up as Tim explained the events of his recon mission and how Batman had saved him from being blown to pieces. He described the pain in his body and who had done it. He stopped and allowed the older teen in front of him to soak in the information. Dick nodded and stepped aside so that Tim could step inside. He instructed the boy to sit and, not wanting to press anymore buttons, Tim did as told. Dick went to his dresser and pulled out a small tub of ointment. He returned to the younger boy, sitting beside him on the bed. Tim felt his body become oblique as Dick's heavier body weight caved in the mattress, causing everything to fall towards him, including Robin.

"Lfit your shirt," Dick instructed, twisting the top of the ointment off. Tim made a face, causing Nightwing to pause and stare at him for a moment. "Does it hurt too much?" Tim merely nodded. "Alright then, lift your arms as high as you can," Instructed the older member of the Bat family. Robin nodded and lifted his arms until his elbows were at shoulder height. Dick slowly rolled the bottom of his shirt up until the younger boy's nipples were exposed, allowing him to see the now swollen area where the bruise was. Nightwing whistled before sliding two fingers across the ointment, gathering it onto the tips.

"Now," He started, "This is going to be really, really cold." He slowly placed his fingers against the bruise, applying it in small circles. Tim drew in a sharp breath, causing Dick to chuckle. "Told ya so." He continued applying the ointment, laying it down in small soothing circles. The temperature of the ointment and the circles caused goosebumps to raise on Tim's arms and on the back of his neck. Had it been any colder or the motions more soothing, he would physically be shivering. He felt his stomach tighten and his shoulders tense as he looked up at Dick. His face was full of concentration as he tried not to press too hard on the sensitive spot.

"All done," He said, pulling back his hand. There was still some ointment, but he wiped the rest off on his pants. He helped Tim lower his shirt before smiling some. "Better?" He asked. Tim felt some heat gather in his cheeks before he nodded and stood.

"Thanks," Tim said, giving his own small smile. He headed for the door, pulling the knob so that it would open.

"Hey, if you want," Dick started, standing, "I can train you." Tim paused, looking over his shoulder, slgihtly flabbergasted. "I mean, from what you said it sounds like you got a good beating by Harley. I could train you, if you want." There was a moment of hesitation before Tim nodded.

"Yeah," He agreed, opening the door fully, "I don't think Bruce will be letting me on anymore missions by myself, or with him since I'm all sensitive. Until I'm healed up, we could train, right?"

"Right," Nightwing nodded. He reached the door and placed his hand on it. "Good night." Tim nodded and let the door knob go as he headed down the hall, the door shutting behing him. He felt his heart beating in his stomach as he continued walking away from Dick's bedroom and his palms were moist. _Maybe I'm getting sick_.

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><p><strong>So, reviews please! Anyone that gets a review gets a hi-five from me mentally! I really wanna know if I'm going good so, again, if this gets positive feedback, I'll continue.<strong>

**-ryuzaki4**


	2. Chapter 2

"Good morning, Master Dick," Alfred said as the Grayson teen entered the kitchen. Dick stopped just outside of the kitchen and leaned against the wall. he gave a quiet yawn, stretching his jaw out in such a way that he looked like a lion going for a magnificent roar. He was still in his pajamas which sat on his body disheveled and at an angle. His hair was a mess, sticking up in the back like a duck's back side. One of his large hands ran through his dark hair in an attempt at taming the untamed hair. It did nothing but comb the front of his hair up, creating an even more messier look, but Dick didn't seem to mind. He entered the room, barefeet tapping on the cold marble floor or the Wayne Manor kitchen. Tim sat at the table, face immersed in the Sunday comics Gotham Times offered to its readers and hands shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth. Dick took a seat at the table as he waited for his food to be prepared.

It was nice to be back at the Wayne Manor. What really did it for Dick was the fact that he was in a place that was so familiar and home-like. No, this place was home. He missed it. Being back at the manor was like going back to a place where one hadn't gone for a long time. Nostalgia overwhelmed him everywhere he went and each action that was made or planned brought back a memory from the past while in Wayne Manor that made Dick pause and muse over the flashback. Some were good and others were bad, but each one caused a different emotion even if the memory was repeated. There was no real reason that he had returned to Wayne Manor. He told Bruce that he had heard word of a covert operation going on underneath Gotham in the sewers, but Bruce saw through the lie, even if he didn't say anything. In all truth, Dick had simply missed the overwhelming comfort of Wayne Manor and missed Alred. Heck, he even missed Tim, even if the kid only spoke to him when he needed Dick to do something. It was nice to be around people who liked his company as much as he did.

"Your food, Master Dick," Alfred said, placing a plate of freshly prepared food in front of Dick.

"Thank you, Alfred," Dick said with a nod and a smile. The elderly grey man gave a warming smile only a grandfather coudl give before he pulled his hand away and stood straight up.

"Will you be needing anything else, Master Dick?" Alfred asked.

Dick shook his head, taking half of his bacon into his mouth. "No, thank you, Alfred. That'll be all." Alfred gave a nod and left the kitchen, hands behind his back, one grabbing the other by the wrist. Dick chewed and ate his food in silence, only talking to Tim to ask him for the rest of the newspaper. It was given to him without so much as a glance, which Dick found odd since he thought that he and Tim were on good terms, especially after the daily inspections on the nasty bruise that Harley had so graciously bestowed upon the boy. Tim folded the comics section and shoveled the last bit of eggs into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed, and then finished off his orange juice. When he got up to leave, Dick called to him.

"Your bruise is nearly gone," Dick commented. Tim looked down his side, acknowledging the statement with a nod. "Do you want to go on a quick run with me through Gotham tonight? Bruce has a date with Ivy, so it seems you and I are goign to be all alone tonight."

"What about Alfred?" Tim asked, raising an eyebrow. Dick wanted to laugh.

"Alfred does what Alfred does," He said, trying not to chuckle. Tim took the chuckle instead, smile gracing his face. He nodded with a soft "That's true" before thinking on the proposal.

"I'll ask Bruce if he thinks I'm okay," Tim said, "Even if he doesn't say it, I know he's worried about me."

"Makes sense," Dick said, mouth full of pancakes and eggs, "Knowing Joker, that specific nail would be laced with some type of neurotoxic chemical that could cripple your nervous system and sent you into a hysterical laugh before death." He looked at Tim who seemed grim, a large frown donning the boy's face. Dick chuckled. "i'm teasing," He reassured. The relief leapt off of Tim's shoulder's, allowing him to drop them and relax.

"I'll ask Bruce," Tim repeated. With that, he turned his back on his fellow crime fighter and went to the sink to drop the dishes into them. He rinsed them quickly before leaving the kitchen and disappearing up the stairs.

After breakfast, Dick went into the garage to take care of the neglected motorcycles. He took a few for a test drive, but was scolded by Bruce when he returned in the afternoon. It wasn't until the vigilant Bruce Wayne mentioned it, but Dick hadn't realized that one of the gas lines for the last motorbike he rode had been cut. "It's a miracle you didn't break down somewhere," Bruce had said, "Probably run into some trouble, too."

"You know I can take care of myself," Dick argued. Bruce didn't say anything except run his thumb over the creases in the wheel to examine the minerals between it. He rubbed them between his fingers. "What is it?" Dick asked, eyes narrowing at the look on Bruce's face.

"The type of gravel that's embedded in the wheel of the bike isn't local. It belongs in an area just outside of Gotham near some docks I visited once while tracking down the Joker," Bruce said, lifting the minerals to his nostrils to take a light sniff, "There's traces of gasoline on the minerals as well. If you need me, I'll be running some scans with Alfred." He turned his back on Dick to leave before pausing. He turned his head, only slightly and looked at Dick from the corner of his eye. "Watch Tim tonight. He's getting rash and his movements aren't thought through. Teach him something." Nodding, Dick turned the opposite way and headed up the stairs into the Wayne Manor.

Tim entered the gym an hour after he was instructed to. He entered slowly and looked as if he were already bored with training. Nightwing looked over his shoulder at the boy. He had begun wrapping bandages around his fists, flexing his fingers every so often to ensure that the wrappings weren't on too tight. Dick, sighing, walked over to the younger crime fighter. He knelt in front of him and took the other's hand without acception or a word.

"What're you doing?" Tim asked, cringing away from Dick as if he were going to spit on the younger's face.

"You were putting on your bandages wrong," Explained the former Robin, "Is this how you've always wrapped your hands?" Tim looked away as confirmation. Sighing, Dick took Tim's other hand and began wrapping that as well. "If you don't wrap your hand properly, you're gonna seriously injure your fingers or wrist. I'll teach you that after some combat today."

"Combat?" Tim asked, flexing his fingers. He was surprised to see that his fingers didn't feel tight or bound in the material. He lifted himself up into a standing position in front of Dick who was stretching out his shoulders. "I thought Bruce wanted you to teach me -"

"Combat," Dick finished. He rolled his head once before getting into a fighting position, "He wants to make sure that you can fight back, and if you're getting your butt handed to you by Harley Quinn.. Well.."

"Okay, okay," Tim snapped, "I get the point. Harley beat me up."

"That's not the point I was making," Dick said, slacking in his fighter's position. "If you can't fight off Harley, how are you gonna take on Ivy or something."

"Why are you only listing females?" Tim asked, raising an eyebrow, "Do you think I'm incapable of fighting off Bane or Cobblepot?" The corner of Dick's mouth twitched up and he responded with a frank "Yes, I do." Robin smacked his lips before getting into his own fighting position. "Well, let's hurry up and get this over with. I'm hungry." Chuckling, Dick bent his knees slightly and lifted his hands.

"Okay Tim," He said, "Hit me with your best shot." Tim nodded and after a halted second, he took a step forward and sent his elbow at Dick. The older crime fighter merely pushed the elbow away and sent the back of his hand into the other's diaphram. Tim staggered back, wheezing for the air that was just knocked out of him. Taking the brief seconds that Tim was stunned, Dick stepped forward and seized the smaller boy's arms. He twisted it around the boy's back and spun him around. Tim made a small sound, similar to a squeak, as he felt his feet abandon the ground. Dick had lifted him up and twisted him over the older boy's shoulder and slammed Tim on his back. Robin let out another cough of breathless air.

"You have to retaliate faster than that," Dick chuckled, leaning over Tim. Frustrated, Tim hurled his leg back and smacked Dick on his forehead with the flat of his foot. Startled, Dick stepped back, hand on his forehead. Tim fanned his legs around his body to set himself in a crouching position.

"And you have to never keep your guard down," Tim lifted his chin. It took Dick a second to register everything, but he smirked and got into another fighting position.

"Give me all you've got Timothy," The older crime fighter said. Tim got out of his crouching position and took two steps forward. Dick leaned forward and Tim swung his hand at Dick's forearm. The older teen went to pat the hand away as he had done previously, but Tim lifted it around Nightwing's on-coming strike and sent the strike to his partner's shoulder. Dick staggered back and Tim took the opportunity to send his foot at Dick's chest. Nightwing caught the foot right before it made contact and forced it to the side.

"Wha -!" Tim felt his body falling over and caught himself by placing his hand down and cartwheeling to the side. Dick sent his own foot into the twirling body and sent Tim flying back into one of the machines.

"Tim!" He raced over to the boy whose body was tangled in the weights. "Tim, are you okay?" He pulled one of the weights off of Tim's thigh and earned a low groan from the boy. "Are, uh.. Are you okay?" Tim pulled the rest of his body out from underneath the weights and nodded, hissing everytime he moved his left leg or tilted his head a certain way.

"I thought the whole point of this training," Tim started, "Was to make me better, not continue to keep banging me up." Dick rubbed at the back of his neck.

He chuckled some before responding with: "Sorry, I got a little carried away I guess."

Tim chuckled himself and limped over to the matted area in the middle of the room. "You got carried away?" He repeated, disbelief laced between his words, "Do you normally get carried away when beating children?" Dick was stupefied. Was Tim actually joking around with him?

"Uh.." He mumbled, "Only on.. The weekdays." Tim laughed softly and lifted his boxing shorts to view the massive black and blue bruise that was now forming on his thigh. He gagged at the sight of it and lowered his shorts again. His fingers gently scraped over his neck to find the other bruise resting there.

"Sorry for beating you up so badly," Dick said, going across the room to his gym bag. He began to rummage through it, pushing aside his socks and towels and weapons to find the ointment he had used on Tim the previous day. "I didn't mean to kick you so hard. Guess you were closer than I had anticipated."

Tim watched Dick. He didn't say anything, but shrugged as his response. Grayson returned with the ointment and two hand towels. Sitting down in front of Tim, he handed the boy one of the towels before turning the ointment cap and opening it up. Using two fingers, he scooped a reasonable amount onto his digits and reached for Tim's shorts. The boy flinched away and regreted it almost soon after as pain ran from his hip to his knee.

"I'm just gonna put this ointment on," Reassured the older teen, "No need to put your guard up or anything." Again, he reached for the younger boy's shorts. When he received no response from the other boy, he lifted the shorts until the bruise was visible and began to apply the ointment in small, soothing circles. Tim relaxed as the liniment application continued. The cool goo of the medication was relieving, and the pain in Tim's body seemed to fade away. His eyes were beginning to close when Dick pulled his hand away.

Noticing the face on the younger crime fighter, Grayson chuckled as he capped the lid on the ointment. "Sorry," He apologized after the light chuckles had ceased, "I didn't mean to bust your... Whatever that was." He let out another stream of deep chuckles, causing Tim to go a bit pink in his cheeks.

"I just.." Robin cleared his throat and fixed his clothes so that his skin wasn't exposed where it wasn't supposed to be. "The ointment felt really nice and relaxing." Dick smiled before handing the small medicine to the other male.

"If you feel better with it, keep it," He offered, "Just put a small amount on your first two fingers, and then apply it in small circles. Makes the pain less and the bruises go away in no time." Tim nodded, looking down at the ointment.

"Thanks," He mumbled. His hands squeezed the bottle before he stood and went to his gym bag. Carelessly, he tossed the medicine amongst his clothes, then returned to Grayson. The older crime fighter was standing himself, arching his back in different directions to stretch them out. "Ready for a round two?" Tim teased, getting into a fighting stance. Dick glanced at Robin with an amused look and a raised eyebrow. His hands went on his hips before he shrugged and responded with a nonchalant, "Why not?" He, too, got in a fighting stance.

Their training went until eleven at night. Bruce walked in on Tim trying to put Dick in a chokehold, which the elder effortlessly escaped. "It's time that the two of you get to bed," Instructed the Caped Crusader. He was banged up, bruises resting on his shoulders and a fresh cut on his cheek. He was leaning on his right, implying that his left leg had been injured, and the way that he was clutching on the wall let the sidekicks decide that his leg was hurt. "Dick, tomorrow, I need you out with me on patrol. I think Joker's got something planned, but I'm not sure yet. I need you - "

"What about me?" Tim interjected, releasing Dick and standing. "I feel better. I can go with you - "

"No, Tim," Bruce shook his head slowly, "I need Dick with me. He has more experience than you, and he has more experience than you. It's another recon mission, but I can't risk you messing it up if your side hurts. You have to stay here." Tim hadn't noticed it, but his hands morphed to fists at his sides. His jaw clenched tightly, preventing him from saying anything that he shouldnt' have. Dick, who was still on the floor, stood at this point.

"When do you need me?" He asked, taking a step forward pass Tim so that Bruce's attention was solely on him.

"I'll need you at the Gotham Toy Co. at eight," Bruce answered, "Sharp. We'll investigate there and see if there are any leads before going after Freeze. I think he's got something to do with this operation as well." Dick nodded before dismissin himself. He bid Tim a quick "Good night" before giving one to Bruce, and then leaving. Tim opened his mouth and opened his mouth, trying to find something to say to Batman, but the Caped Crusader only turned his back on the boy. The door behind him closed, leaving Robin by himself in the gym. His jaw clenched once more and his fists were so tightly gripped that they were shaking. In frustration, Tim went to his gym bag and kicked it. His foot caught on something hard and he reached for it, grunting in irritation. His hand took hold of the ointment that Dick had given him.

"I don't need this," He scoffed, tossing the thing aside. It bounced on the mats before rolling out of sight underneath one of the treadmills. Tim hoisted his bag onto his shoulder before leaving the gym. He would go on that mission, even if Bruce told him not to. He would simply shadow Nightwing tomorrow and find out what was going on. Hell, he'd even find a way to stop Joker's plans. He **would **be a part of the mission.

**So, reviews please! Anyone that reviews gets a hi-five from me mentally! I really wanna know if I'm going good so, again, if this gets positive feedback, I'll continue.**

**-ryuzaki4**


	3. Chapter 3

The Wayne Manor was full of the noise of a vacuum being used in the upper floors. The sound could be heard in nearly every room of the house and remained a constant reminder that people did, in fact, dwell within the household. From his room, Tim listened to the noise. He lay in his bed with one arm tucked underneath his head and the other twirling a small tub of liniment he had previously discarded and had then retrieved. He spun it around on his stomach, catching the cloth of his shirt, getting stuck, and then releasing it. The young crime fighter's foot twitched and bobbed and spun as his thoughts continued to flow endlessly through his mind. It seemed they were stuck on a sort of loop because Tim could only focus on two things: 1) his anger at Bruce for not letting him go on the mission along with Dick, and 2) simply Nightwing. The boy would wonder on in frustration at how his mentor was cold to him and distant, and even a bit unfair for not allowing Robin to join in on the mission. He was healed up well enough (despite the new bruises on his thigh from training that gave him a terrible limp, which he would never confess to), and he believed that he could handle the mission. He had been on Batman's missions against Joker before, so why not this time? What could possibly be different about this time than the others?

The noise of the vacuum switched off, and Tim assumed that Alfred had finished his chores for the day. At the silence, the boy turned his head to gaze at the clock on his bedside table. It read 8: 16 pm. Only sixteen minutes since Batman and Nightwing had departed on their escapade.

"Can't I please go?" Tim had asked, his suit ready in his hand in case Bruce had changed his mind. The bachelor millionaire answered with a blunt and swift "No" before turning away from Robin and heading on his way out. Tim was defeated at the stern authority that was hinted within Batman's voice, and dropped his shoulders as a physical sign of his surrender.

"Hey," Dick walked up at this point, fully clothed with only his mask missing. His hand found its way onto Tim's shoulder in a brotherly fashion. "Maybe he'll take you next time. I mean, I did give you those mean bruises on your thigh yesterday." Tim scoffed and swatted Dick's hand away. The older crime fighter shrugged before fitting his mask on. "Maybe next time," He repeated. As he went to leave, he gave a two-fingered salute and went on his way. Tim couldn't help but notice the way that Dick's bicep twirked at the small salute, at how his neck tightened at the reassuring smile, at how his outfit fitted all of Nightwing's muscles and body type.

Tim flipped himself on his side on his bed. The ointment tub was now being tightly clenched to his chest, knuckles turning white at the unnerving thought. Why he had been so attentive to Dick's body was a conundrum. He never paid any mind to the the elder's body, so why now? And then it clicked: Tim was jealous. Nightwing had muscles and an athletic body that was lean and attractive. He could wear nearly anything and have it fit his body type. His muscled arms and tight core was something every boy Tim's age longed for. Feeling self conscious, Tim got out of his bed. His hands went to pick up his shirt from the bottom and they lifted it over his head. He went to the closet and swept aside the clothes to peer at himself in the mirror. His eyes immediately went to what was lacking in comparison to Dick's body. Where Nightwing had tight abs of six, Tim had the vague beginning outlines of two. His arms were much thinner and lankier than Dick's whose arms were muscled to the point where it was easy to define bicep from tricep. Tim's pecs weren't as tight as they could have been and even his butt didn't seem to well up to the size of Dick's. Though, how Tim had known that was way beyond his thoughts now. "Whatever," Tim sighed, grabbing his shirt and reclaiming it on his body. He looked at himself in the mirror again. Rather than looking at himself, however, his eyes trailed their way to the suit he had carelessly tossed on the floor. Yellow and black stared up daringly at the Boy Wonder until he gave in. Tim walked over to his crime fighting uniform and picked it up. He turned his head and then grabbed his mask off of his nightstand.

Nightwing crunched over the rubble at the Gotham Toy Factory. He had two fingers pressed against the outermost edges of his mask to scan the area for any unidentifiable liquids. He continued being hindered from his investigation at signs of blue, which always turned out being some of the explosive liquid Joker had used to destroy the place. When no unknown substance appeared on his scanner, Nightwing dropped his hand to turn the device off and placed his hands on his hips. He turned his head to look over at Batman who was flipping the charred remains of what looked like a large doll. Dick went over to his old mentor, being careful to not stumble on the rubble or break anything that lay near Bruce.

"Did you find anything?" He asked as he neared the Bat.

"The sockets for the doll's eyes don't seem to properly fit the marble," Bruce replied, lifting the destroyed toy up. As it was placed vertically to the ground, the doll gave an eerie, battery drained laugh. It was slow and low, hinting that it was very much demolished inside and out. Batman's fingers grazed the doll's face, sometimes pressing against the doll's face. As he reached the eyes, there was a small click! and then the eyes fell out of place. In place of them were two vials of a shining green liquid. They were locked in a nitroglyceric casing, individually made for each of the vials. With a light touch, Batman plucked both from the doll's eyes and handed one to Nightwing.

"It looks like something Freeze would make," Nightwing commented, lifting the vial above his head so that he could view the bottom of the casing. "You think he had anything to do with this?" When Dick looked up at his mentor, Bruce was already in the process of scanning the outside of the casing.

"So what have you got Alfred?" He asked, hand against the side of his head.

"The mechanical skeleton of the casing is identical to the mechanics used in Freeze's technology," Alfred confirmed, "However, due to the outter crystaline shell, it's difficult to read the liquid from inside of the box. Perhaps it would be much easier to simply bring it home and test it here."

"I think I might just have to do that," Bruce sighed. "Alright, Alfred. We're headed back."

"Ah, Master Bruce, there is something that you should know."

"What is it?"

"Master Tim is missing."

Robin perched himself atop one of the rails on the water tower above Freeze's hideout. He blended with the shadows, keeping a watchful eye out for any and all goons, or for Freeze himself. No noise was heard besides an occasional car alarm or symphony of dog barks. Robin turned his head, as something flew in and out of his peripheral. Quickly, his hand went to the corner of his mask, turning on his heat signal vision. Everything seemed in the norm despite the few people still wandering about the streets. Something was odd about the sight, however. Robin's eyes scanned over every detail that he was seeing, taking in all the people and colors.

"Where is Freeze?" The Boy Wonder asked himself, turning the scanner off. A cold breeze rushed over the boy, an odd sort of feeling as the day was immensely hot. Feeling out of ease at the change in temperature, Robin paused and focused on his hearing. The sound of factories could be heard and another ticking noise. It was persistent like clockwork and gears grinding against one another to create a metallic symphony of noises. That wasn't right. The cold and the clicking was foreign. Robin went to move his position on the rail he was perched on to further investigate his nerves, but the clicking paused.

Immediately the boy's hands went to his batarangs. With a flourishing movement of his cape, he caught his attacker off guard and launched his small weapons. Freeze called out in surprise at the offensive move from the sidekick, but quickly gained his composure. He readied himself to swing at the Boy Wonder, but the boy leapt off of the rails, over Freeze's head, and landed behind the villain. Freeze smashed the rail Robin had been standing on and turned quickly, face stoic and unimpressed. From his utility belt, Robin withdrew his staff and readied for a battle.

"You do not truly believe that you stand a chance at defeating me, do you, boy?" Freeze asked. It was impossible to read his enemy's eyes behind his goggles, making it difficult for Robin to see if his opponent was studying their terrain. "Are you here alone? Or is the Batman hiding somewhere in the shadows as he always does?"

"I can take care of you myself," Tim announced, resetting his position to one of the offensive side. Freeze seemed pleased with this statement for a small smile passed over his face as quickly as the blink of an eye.

"Then this should be no problem," Freeze said. He stepped forward and Robin stepped back. He advanced once more and again the boy retreated. The villain let out a chilling laugh and then readied his freeze gun. It seemed as if the world spun just a bit slower as the next few seconds occurred. Freeze's gun fired at Robin. He reacted with a dodge roll to his left. The blast hit Robin in his foot and hindered him from a successful dodge. He paused only to smash the ice, but Freeze had descended on the boy already. A fatal blow to the head knocked Robin's world to black.

Bruce had nothing to say after the Tim's disapperance was announced. He made no noises besides thanking Alfred for the news and instructing Dick to follow him to Freeze's hideout. He moved hastily through the city, skipping over rooftops as if playing a game of hopscotch. His footsteps were light and swift, the only obvious noise the swooshing sound of his cape and sometimes the shot of his batclaw. Nightwing had difficulty catching up to Bruce. Occasionally he would slip and nearly lose his footing on gutters of apartments or make the mistake of moving in the wrong direction. Batman never turned to see if he was following or if he were nearby. His face was forward and his eyes narrow.

"I'm sure that he's alright," Dick tried for conversation. He knew he had said the wrong thing once Bruce shot him an evil look through his mask.

"He's been captured," The bachelor said matter-of-factly. "If Freeze is working with the Joker, they'll use anything as leverage against us. This is precisely why I told Tim not to come." Bruce stopped as they reached their destination. He scouted the grounds from above to find that they were bare and absent of people. Nightwing turned to look at the rooftops around them and spotted a broken water tower.

'I'm going to see that water tower," Dick informed. Bruce only nodded as Nightwing bounded towards the water tower. When he approached the water tower, the previous Robin was surprised to see that some of the rails were smashed. His fingers brushed over the metal, finding them very cold to the touch.

"Bruce," Nightwing called on his communicator, "I think I've found something." From afar, Nightwing saw his previous mentor turn in his direction. "These rails on the water tower are crashed and they're cold. Too cold. I think there was a battle here, but I'm not sure against who yet."

"Keep your eyes open, Dick," Bruce instructed, moving into the shadows and out of Richard's eyesight, "Examine your area and then inspect the entrance. I'll meet you inside." The two disconnected.

Turning his attention back to the battle area, Nightwing turned on his scanners and inspected the area. As Nightwing continued looking at the metal, his elbow caught on something, tugging at the fabric and pricking his skin as if on a thumbtack. He turned, without moving his elbow, to inspect the snag. Almost engraved within the metal were shallow, ragged grooves that caused the steel to stick up in spikes that resembled a frozen heart monitor. Nightwing zoomed in on the wounds. He pulled out his batarangs and, beside the grooves, dragged his blades through the metal. The scars were near identical. Nightwing clicked to his communicator again and quickly gasped, "He has Robin."

**I'm sorry that this is taking me so long. I've been caught up with school and work and everything in between. I'll still be continuing this story, so don't worry. I have everything planned and it's all gonna come out.. My goal is to update at least once a week so that I can finish this and start a new project. Might be creating a new account, too so.. Yeah.**

**So, reviews please! Anyone that reviews gets a hi-five from me mentally! I really wanna know if I'm going good so, again, if this gets positive feedback, I'll continue.**

**-ryuzaki4**


	4. Chapter 4

Nightwing landed in front of Freeze's hideout, his feet making the softest pit pat noise on the floor. He kept his form low, crouching as he made his way along the perimeter of the surrounding buildings and keeping his body in the shadows. There was no noise coming from inside, but Nightwing had some inkling that Bruce had already infiltrated the edifice. As he reached the front of the building, Dick paused in the darkest shadow and held his breath, keeping his ears ready for any noise made around the surrounding buildings. Once it was confirmed that there was no movement, Nightwing made his to the alleyways between the buildings. It was a tight fit, causing him to turn his body sideways so that he could wiggled his way over to the nearest side window. He made a position as if doing a push-up and then pressed his feet against the wall. Awkwardly, Nightwing shimmied his way up to the window to peer inside. The windows were frosted, the corners cracked from the frigid temperature inside the warehouse. In the center, the mirror was opaque. The light shining through the window allowed shadows to be distinguished inside the warehouse, but nothing seemed to be moving. A dark shadow sat in the middle of the warehouse, a blob of red accompanying the black.

"Tim.." Nightwing breathed. He continued his awkward shuffling up the wall until he reached the roof. From a bird's eye view, Grayson could see the shadows clearer through the roof's windows. He could distinguish a body from the outline and the shape of the mass. Standing, he inspected the metal surrounding the glass, keeping it in its place. He pulled at the bolts and tried the glass. When that didn't work, Nightwing looked for any air conditioning ventilation systems, hoping that he could get in that way. There was a small air duct, but nothing big enough that would allow an adult body to fit through. Exasperated, Nightwing stood with his arms crossed, trying to figure out a plan on how to penetrate the building.

"Dick." Nightwing jumped at the sudden voice from behind him. He spun to see Bruce silhouetted in the light of the moon. At ease, Nightwing let his shoulders relax as Batman stepped into view. "The roof is bolted down. There's no way in up here. We'll have to find somewhere else to get in."

Nightwing nodded. "Meet you inside?" Bruce nodded and, with an unecessary flourish of his cape, left Nightwing to himself. Nightwing moved across the rooftop, taking one last glance at the red and black mass in the warehouse before slipping off of the edge and back onto the floor. As he landed, the masked hero was greeted by the loud cocking sound of a gun.

"Welcome, welcome," Joker's voice called from the shadows. The villain revealed himself, stepping forward with Harley Quinn by his side. In her hands was an overly exaggerated in size shot gun, the barrels being too large for the small handle. "I didn't think the Bat would be dropping in so soon, but with Birdy Boy in our hands I should have suspected as much." Joker circled around Harley, watching Nightwing and yet keeping his eyes darting constantly over the shadows. "I thought Batman was dropping in on this side. I would have left Night... Wing Night... Nightstand.." Pausing beside his female companion, Joker rubbed his already slicked back hair in thought. "Now, I can't seem to find a nickname for you."

"Oh, Puddin', you don't have to worry," Harley reassured, turning her head in the Joker's direction and looking at him as fondly as a proud mother does her own child. "This guy ain't even worthy of your nicknames." As a treat at the compliment, Joker patted Harley on her head before the two redirected their attention back on Nightwing.

"Oh, get up, boy," Joker said, stomping around to Nightwing and kicking the dirt on his feet. He continued this until Nightwing stood. "Two pieces of bait for the Bat. Never thought I'd get this lucky." The clown opened a door disguised as part of the wall and entered, leaving Harley behind to usher the old Robin in. Every so often, she would prod at his back, giggling as the muscles in his back tensed and relaxed

.Nightwing was lead through the warehouse, pinned between a gun and a crazed man. It was cold, causing his body to tense up and his breath to be visible even as he breathed through his nose. Although gloved, his fingers began to give way to the cold, becoming nothing more than frigid sticks. To circulate the blood flow between his digits. Dick constantly tightened his fists into balls. Still, that did not keep the cold at bay. As if teasing him, Joker donned on a thick, purple fur coat and handed Harley an identical one. Nightwing received nothing but a glare and menacing giggle. To his left, and running throughout the entire warehouse, was an assembly line. On it, men and machine worked in harmony to mass produce the vials and liquids that Bruce had found and identified. Each person manning the equipment seemed afraid to touch the liquid, keeping the vials an arm's length away from their faces. Machines whirred as they took the glass containers and inserted them into Freeze's exoskeletal casing. The machinery fastened lids over the cases and then shipped them down to men who were storing them into containers and carrying them away. Harley poked at Nigthwing with the guy and spat a, "Keep it movin'," at the male. The group advanced on the center of the warehouse. As if the centerpiece in a design, Tim stood bound to a large black tower that dangled from the top of the ceiling. It was connected to the roof by chains and a pulley system, and resting beneath it stood a large vat of the liquid Joker was currently mass producing.

"Like the thingy?" Joker said, hopping up to the P.O.W and making flourishing movements across the tub of liquid as if trying to sell it on a gameshow. He paused and frowned as Nightwing was unamused by his actions. Like an excited child, the clown skipped over to one of the small liquid vials and held it in front of Dick. "You see this bad boy? It's a highly explosive liquid that reacts almost immediately on contact. Think of the smallest thing that the eye can see. Even that could activate this wonderfully explosive explosive." Joker tossed the vial to a goon standing by who seemed terrified at the contact with the liquid. "But wait! There's more!" Harley giggled from behind Nightwing. "Even if you do survive the explosion, a gas is released into the air that causes hallucinations, delusions, nausea, heartburn, indigestion! Oh, it's the whole shebang in one little bottle!" He grinned at Nightwing. The crime fighter kept a stoic face, hiding the fear that was slowly churning in his stomach. Such a sensitive explosive being mass produced by a crazed man could not be a good thing.

"And what exactly are you planning to do with them?" Nightwing inquired, hands clenching at his sides. Joker seemed stunned at the question, confusion being pulled over the white face.

"Well, I - "

"Do not answer that question," Freeze's voice sounded. He stepped around from behind the large tub of explosive liquid, a wave of artic air washing over the group. Everyone shuddered, even Joker and Harley in their thick coats. In his clunky armor, Freeze apporached the group, icy face stoic and goggled eyes most likely glaring at the group. "He is only buying time. The Batman is somewhere hiding in the shadows waiting for the proper moment to attack." At the mention of Batman, all of the villains looked up at the rooftop, inspecting and surveying the shadows and unattended areas. Some even began to hide, crouching behind the machinery or picking up weapons. Seizing the opportunity, Nightwing kicked Joker forward and elbowed Harley hard enough to knock her off kilter. Freeze turned his attention back to the masked hero and aimed his cannon at Nightwing. He shot, but Dick leapt onto the assembly line and launched himself on the hanging roof lights on the ceiling. He swung on the lights, each one swaying violently, until he reached the opposite side, narrowly dodging bullets and weapons being hurled his way. With a dismounting flip, Nightwing landed expertly on one of the rails on the opposite sides of the warehouse. The villains began moving towards Nightwing, weapons in their hands and ready to attack.

"We should have bound his hands!" Joker cried out angrily. Harley quickly took aim with her gun and fired three canon ball sized bullets Nightwing's way. Two of the bullets hit the wall with such force that they left large gaping holes in the wall. One of the bullets struck the rails, causing the walkway that Nightwing rested on to collapse. The metal rails were the first to fall before taking the entire structure down. Nightwing tried his best to retain balance on his way down, but he was unable to keep himself upright. The previous Robin fell to the floor, landing harshly on his back and knocking the wind out of his body. It took too long for him to gather his composure and allowed several goons to already descend on the young adult. One of the larger goons swept Nightwing up by hauling him onto his feet by his armpits. The grip kept his arms pinned above his head and immobilized the use of fists in the fight. As the men gathered around him, Nightwing spun his legs like a windmill to catch the other goons offguard. The men stepped back, afraid of being hit by the sweeping movement. Nightwing cocked his head back and launched it against the large goon's nose. The man cried out, loosening his grip on Dick and allowing him to wriggle free. Able to get in a fighting stance, Nightwing pulled out his batons and readied them for electrocution. A man with what appeared to be frostbite advanced, waving a large pole above his head. Leaving his chest exposed, Nightwing had little to do but taze the man's chest and stun him. A quick roundhouse kick sent him flying against the wall and rendering him unconscious.

"This is gonna hurt!" Another charging felon cried as he and his partner came at Nightwing with chains. They swung the links about as if they were nunchucks before swinging them in Nightwing's direction. Nightwing dodged one and let the other wrap around one of his batons. Flicking a switch on his baton, he increased the voltage on his captured weapon, sending harsh shocks to the vandal holding the chain. The man cried out and released the chains, stepping back as the electricity continued coursing through his hands. The armed goon swung his chains again, narrowly missing Nightwing's face. He swung again and was able to land a hard hit on Nightwing's ribcage, causing Dick to cry out in pain. Both stepped forward, but Nightwing extended his arms to touch the villain's chest, electrocuting the man and sending him flying against another attacking man. On all sides, men advanced, each one holding a different weapon. Nightwing got into a fighting stance, but he knew he couldn't hold off such a large group of men. The chain bruises on his side hindered Nightwing from jumping over the men, and he couldn't take anyone out by tossing them over his head. Nightwing looked around at the group. Three of the men were large and held irregular weapons like oversized broken piping or a large slab of cement. The rest of the men snarled at Dick, each one unsure of moving forward and attacking.

"Lower the Bird Brat into the liquid!" Joker called from somewhere in the warehouse, "Send his guts exploding all over this place!" Nightwing turned to look over at Tim's still unconscious mass. The tower he was connected to began to descend towards the liquid. Nightwing looked at the goons surrounding him and felt his heart sink. There was no way the he could get around the crowd in time to save Robin. With the crowd, Dick would have to take most of these men out and then try and rescue Robin. There wasn't enough time for him to accomplish both by himself. One of the men moved towards Nightwing and he sent several batarangs in the man's direction. It scratched the man a handful of times, but did nothing more than stun him for a moment and scratch his face. Nightwing braced himself for the worse.

There was a loud cry from the back of the crowd. Two men went flying in opposite directions and another was launched towards the ceiling connected to a wire. Like the red sea the men parted to see who was taking out their men. From the back, Batman moved through the crowd, sending his elbow into foreheads and his heel in guts. "Get Robin," Bruce commanded. Nightwing nodded and turned towards the tub. A large man blocked his way, brandishing a slab of cement as if it were something rare and beautiful. He swung it at *Richard* and barely missed his head, scratching the top of Nightwing's skull and retracting a trickle of blood. With as much force as he could, Nightwing sent his fist into the large man's face, feeling the bone and cartilage smash at the contact. The man wailed in pain, gripping his now bleeding face and keeled forward. Dick stepped on the man's back to launch himself onto the descending tower that Robin was fastly secured upon. It swung violently to the right and then came back around and tapped against one of the railways. Nightwing tugged at the ropes binding Tim to the swinging tower, but they didn't budge. With a frustrated grunt, Nightwing began to create plans in his head. He pulled out his last batarang and began to hack away at the ropes, holding Robin to the pulley system. There was a sudden lurch as the tower dropped a level, almost closing the gap between the liquid and the two Robins. Sweat beads collected on Nightwing's temple, matting his hair to the side of his face. He sawed one more line and Robin was free. The boy's unconscious body lumped forward and, with his fast reflexes, Dick grabbed Robin and held him close to his body. With the ropes cut, there was nothing to hold onto on the tower with. Nightwing leaned with the movement of the tower, trying to balance himself and Tim on the moving mass. The two continued swerving back and forth, threatening to touch the opposite walls in a warehouse or ram into a walkway. Another lurch propelled the two towards the liquid. As the structure fell, Nightwing leaped off of the tower with Robin held tightly in his arms. Awkwardly, the old Robin rolled across the floor, keeping one hand securely on the back of Tim's head so that he didn't hurt the boy.

"No!" Batman cried as the tower collapsed the roof and fell into the liquid. It landed with a loud splash, but nothing more. The green liquid oozed from the tops of the container as the structure sank into the tub and trickled its way through the tiles in the warehouse floor. Nightwing lifted his head to see Batman's whereabouts and found him approaching Dick and Tim.

"Why didn't the liquid explode?" Nightwing asked, standing with difficulty as the attack on his side throbbed and Robin lay limp in his hands. He looked around the warehouse and found it nearly empty besides the unconscious villains strewn about the floor. Joker, Harley, and Freeze were nowhere to be found. "We were supposed to explode," Nightwing repeated. Batman took Robin from his arms and held him as if he were a bride.

"Just because it didn't explode immediately doesn't mean that the liquid isn't active," Bruce explained, "Let's move." He gave Robin back to Nightwing who held the boy the same way that the bachelor did. The two headed torwards the main doors when the lights in the warehouse clicked off.

"Not so fast, Bat," Joker's voice commanded over the PA system. "Did you really think that I would let you get away so easily? Come now, you should have known better." There was the loud sound of iron locks begin clicked into place and all light sources were gone with the exception of the moonlight streaming from the ceiling's window. "I'm going to count to ten. In that time, I want you to figure a way out or I'll blast you to itty bitty bits of bat." Nightwing looked over to where he had last seen Bruce. "Oh, and don't try the ceiling. It's reinforced glass. You know, like the airplanes." Joker gave a menacing chuckle. "Good luck."

"Bruce," Nightwing gasped. He brushed the corner of his mask with his shoulder, switching through several scanners to find night visions. He looked about the warehouse and found Batman inspecting the corners between the walls and floor. Nightwing, still with Robin in his arms, approached his mentor.

"One. Two."

"I'm going to drill a way out," Batman explained. He wiped his finger across the line between the meeting point of the floor and wall. "It won't be a very big hole so you'll have to push Robin out first. If we can increase the hole size, you'll follow, and then myself."

"But - "

"Threeee."

"Help me," Batman instructed. Carefully, Dick placed Tim against the wall before going to the area that Bruce was inspecting. From his utility belt, the millionaire bachelor pulled out a small explosive.

"Four."

He placed it against the wall and floor. The two turned their back on the explosive as it detonated, leaving a small yet deep hole in the floor.

"Five. Six."

With the dirt loose, Bruce began kicking in the dirt until there was a hole large enough to fit Nightwing through. Quickly, Dick grabbed Robin and slipped him through the hole, feet first. As carefully as he could, he slid through, scratching his face on dirt and keeping Robin as clean and wound free as possible. Once he was through, Nightwing lay Robin on the floor before going back to the hole to try and open it deep enough for Bruce to fit through. At first he started kicking at the loose dirt, but found that it filled the hole. Dick got to his knees and began to dig with his hands at the hole.

"Seveeeen."

His hands worked and worked at the dirt, tugging at rocks and creating a larger hole.

"Bruce! Bruce, you can fit through!" Nightwing yelled. As if on cue, Batman began to crawl his way through the hole. He wriggled and writhed his way underneath the building.

"Eight."

"Come on," Nightwing gasped, "You're almost there."

"Nine."

"Grab Robin and go," Bruce said as he continued to push through the hole.

"But - "

"Go!" Reluctantly, Dick raced off and picked up Robin. He held the boy tightly against his body and raced down the street, noticing that it was beginning to get difficult to breathe. He sped around the corner, not daring to look back. As he turned down an alley, a large explosion went off behind him. The shock caused the earth to move beneath him, making Nightwing to fall to his knees. There was another blast, sending a gust of wind to force Dick forward. To protect Robin, Grayson kept his hand over the back of Tim's head and tightened his grip on the Boy Wonder. The two rolled as the wind ensued, pushing them towards the alley wall. Nightwing hit the back of his head on the corner of the alley. The hit sent a pounding pulse to throb in his head. It continued to beat against the inside of his skull, shifting his world from black to grey with each pulse. Eventually, Nightwing's world went black.

Tim woke up with a heavy, breathing mass on his chest. His eyes widened at the unfamiliar weight before a harsh pain rang through the boy's body. With a groan, the Boy Wonder turned his head and saw Nightwing's face in close proximity. Robin's breathing hitched and his chest tightened. There were bruises and scratches on Dick's face accompanied by small scabbing slices. A bruise was forming near the bottom of Dick's face, just above his chin. His lip had a nice slice in it that was still bleeding and it was starting to swell just a bit on one side. His hair was matted to his forehead by sweat and a tad bit of mud and blood. Most of the sweat was on his temples and the rest seemed due to the mud. Nightwing's breath fell and rose. He was sleeping or was unconscious. Either way, he was rested and looked very calm and peaceful. Tim swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat, hoping that it would land on the butterflies gathering in his chest. He made a motion to move, to turn away from Nightwing's sleeping face, but found the other male's arm wrapped around, not only Robin's body, but cupping the back of his head as well. Tim's breath hitched again. He moved slowly as he reached up to his head and took a hold of Dick's hand.

"Tim.." Nightwing's voice caught Robin by surprise. He glanced over to look at the other crime fighter and found he was still asleep, only mumbling. Tim continued his actions. His fingers laced through Dick's, sprouting a heat to course throughout the younger boy's body. He removed the hand and placed it by his side rather than touching his person. Tim then went to escape the rest of Nightwing's arm. He turned his body to roll under the limb, but as he did, his found himself face to face with the sleeping Nightwing. Never had Tim been so close to the other. He could hear and feel the light breath of Nightwing on his face. With a stiff body and form, Tim moved his body beneath Nightwing's. The feelings in his stomach put a red alarm in his head, making him uncomfortable. He wanted to get out of the situation as soon as he possibly could. Tim moved out from beneath Nightwing, being careful not to disturb the other crime fighter. The movement made Dick's eyes flutter open. He groaned as he awoke and sat up, removing his arm from Tim's body so that the boy could move freely now. Nightwing clutched his head in obvious pain, but also placed his hand on several other places that were probably damaged: his lip, his shoulder, his sides, his forearm. When he turned and saw Robin awake, Nightwing smiled and wrapped the other boy in a tight hug.

"I'm so glad that you're okay," He declared, squeezing the confused boy. "I was sure that Joker had drugged you or something."

"N-no, I just.." Robin looked away. "Freeze. He - "

"We have to find Bruce," Nightwing declared. Tim furrowed his eyebrows. Why hadn't he noticed that Batman wasn't present? He looked about the area before he forced himself to stand. The boy's knees were wobbly and it was odd to use them, but they quickly came into use. Dick had a harder time getting up. He seemed to be in serious pain. Every action that was too fast for him caused him to wince or hiss. Eventually, he had to have Tim be his support, his crutch. With Robin's help, Nightwing was able to stand and then walk. Together, the two returned to the warehouse sight, now just a pile of rubble. Metal was thrown everywhere, bricks were piled upon broken bricks. Nightwing released his grip on Tim and limped throughout the explosion area. He would try to turn over something, but found it against his current ability to even bend over without any assistance. Robin did most of the work, obeying Nightwing's instructions to turn this over or move that. The two were at the area for a handful of minutes until they decided to stop and give up.

"Bruce was caught in this explosion?" Tim asked, worry embedded on his face. Nightwing only nodded. "I hope he got out," was all that Dick croaked.

"Let's head back to the mansion," Nightwing instructed. "We need to do a litte R and R." With Tim's assistance again, Nightwing stood and limped away from the warehouse rubble.

* * *

><p><strong>Re-written. Hopefully, my minor changes helped with suspense and whatnot. Because I want to finish this story, I don't know if I'll be automatically re-writing my chapters. I want to get my ideas out in the open so that I don't have to worry about this. Finals are coming up and I don't want to lag on this because I'm too busy cramming or whatever.<strong>

**So, reviews please! Anyone that reviews gets a hi-five from me mentally! I really wanna know if I'm going good so, again, if this gets positive feedback, I'll continue.**

**-ryuzaki4**


	5. Chapter 5

Wayne Manor seemed much farther than it actually was. By foot and by rooftop, Nightwing and Robin slowly made their way back home, stopping on occasion to allow the older crime fighter to rest his body. He would lean against a wall or set his body on the floor, breathing heavily and groaning whenever he tried stretching or twisting. Robin had tried cleaning off some of the dirt and grime from Nightwing's face whenever they rested, but his gloved fingers would usually wind up scraping against fresh wounds and hurt Nightwing rather than heal him. Every time contact was made between cut and leather, Dick would flinch away, hissing at the pain in the touch, to which Tim would reply with a sincere, "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Nightwing said, walking to lean against an air duct.

"If I had just stayed home like Bruce said -" Robin tried, stepping forward to try and establish his position in the conversation.

"Let's keep moving," Nightwing ran his tongue over her teeth before spitting out blood on the floor. "The manor's not too far. If we hurry, we'll make it before sunrise." Robin didn't say anything, but only nodded as a response. He was beckoned by the other male and went over. In silence, he set his body as a human crutch to Nightwing before the two of them continued their journey home. No words were spoken between the two and it caused Tim to worry. Dick always seemed to have a word or two to say, even if it was something like small talk or a casual "It's nice today". No such thing happened. His face was stoic and distant, out of character for the crime fighter. Robin wanted to say something, apologize for getting the two into trouble, but he had no idea how to begin to find his words. It was his fault that Bruce was missing, that Nightwing was in such a fragile state. There were few scratches on Tim, a few bruises and scrapes here and there but nothing that hindered his movements. Rather than saying anything, Tim kept his thoughts to himself. He didn't have anything to say until Batman was found.

As the two stumbled into the Batcave, Alfred greeted them. He held no tray of snacks or refreshments. His gaze was intense and his body was stiff, causing Tim to keep his gaze fixated on the moist ground. Nightwing let go of Tim as they neared Alfred and stumbled into the butler's arms. Alfred took hold of Nightwing, gripping the boy's elbows and hoisting him up onto his feet that way. Dick seized the butler's shoulders and spoke secret words into his ear. Tim was paused in place where Nightwing had left him. He watched as Alfred's expressions changed and then returned. His gaze flickered between Robin and Nightwing, surprise and disbelief.

"Tim," Dick called. Said boy crossed to the pair and had Nightwing thrust upon him once more. "Tim, I need you to help me undress."

"Okay," Robin answered. He looked at Alfred and opened his mouth only to close it again.

"It's alright, Master Tim," Alfred said, turning to make his leave, "Master Bruce has disappeared on several occasions. He's like a homeless cat: he always comes back for the food." The butler chuckled at his own joke, but there was some sadness in his eyes. He turned, leaving the two boys all by themselves in the lair. Nightwing lifted his hand and peeled off his mask. He kept it in his hands for several moments before he tossed it aside, letting it clatter to the floor. Robin went to pick it up, but Dick called him back with a soft, "Leave it." Next to come off were the gloves. Nightwing rolled the bottoms and then individually plucked his fingers from out of the leather gloves. He tossed those aside as well. As he did this, Tim pulled off his own mask and gloves. He kept his eyes to the floor, shame and guilt ringing in his head.

"Tim," Nightwing called, "Come help me with my suit." The boy listened, moving swiftly to his mentor, and then helping undo the clasps that held the costume on the crime fighter's body. "My arms," Dick instructed. Nodding, Tim gently tugged on the material at Nightwing's wrist, pulling the man's outfit off of his shoulders. The costume was peeled off until the older crime fighter's chest was exposed. Small scrapes and bruises were scattered throughout the man's chest, but nothing serious. There was, however, a large bruise on the nape of Nightwing's neck, the size of a small child's fist. It was a deep purple and was mildly deformed. Tim winced at the sight of the bruise, being reminded of his own that Harley had bestowed upon him several days ago. Nightwing stripped the rest of his costume off, not wanting to create an awkward situation for Tim as the remaining parts of his uniform were his boots and bottoms. As he stood in his undergarments, the crime fighter gave a violent shudder. His hot skin was cooling from contact with the cold Batcave air. Another shudder and he began to dress himself. Tim helped him with putting on his shirt, but that was all that was required of the boy.

When all was finished, Nightwing caught Tim's eye. Robin halted his actions to stare back at the other crime fighter. Again, his mouth opened, but Dick simply put his arms around the boy in a tight, consoling hug. "It isn't your fault, Tim," He said, giving a quick squeeze to the boy, "Everyone makes mistakes." He released the boy to look at him and smiled. "Bruce _will _come home. It's just like Alfred said: He's like a stray cat." Nightwing began moving towards the entrance to Wayne manor. "We all are, I think. I mean, Alfred's cooking is delicious. I'd come back just for the food," He walked backwards up the steps, keeping a smile on his face. His smile waivered and then he turned his back on Robin to make his ascent into the house, leaving Tim alone in the cave. The boy looked about, shirt in his hands and shoulders heavy and sagging.

The following day, both Dick and Alfred went about their usual daily business, cleaning, grocery shopping, weight lifting, etc. Tim, however, kept to himself and stayed in his room unless it was time to eat or he had to use the restroom. Periodically, Alfred would come in, give a greeting, and begin to vacuum the boy's room, but that was as much contact he made with anyone in the house. He had not seen Nightwing since the night of the incident, and would rather prefer it that way until Bruce came home. If he was. Every other night, the boy would have a dream recalling the night he had disobeyed Batman. Each dream varied in horrific events. For example, there was one night of the dream in which Joker had taken Nightwing hostage rather than Tim, and proceeded to torture the crime fighter before the boy's very eyes by slicing Dick's neck and hanging him upside down to bleed out as if he were an animal carcass. On that night, Tim woke up in a cold sweat, his heart racing and his stomach in knots. On another night, all of the villains became zombies, spontaneously combusted, and then proceeded to murder the Bat-trio. That dream awoke Tim at night and had him turn on his light. He would not take hot showers for two days.

Tim was sitting on the edge of his bed, watching a fly trapped in his room helplessly clang against his window. After several failed attempts, the fly stopped and rested against the glass, fluttering its wings and crawling in obscure shapes on the glass. There was a soft knock on Tim's door. The visit was rare and out of the blue so the boy disregarded the approval to enter. Instead, Robin threw his body back, flopping the rest of his body on his bed so that his legs were the only things dangling over the edge. It was probably just Alfred coming to inform him that dinner was finished or his laundry was folded and downstairs. With that thought, the boy lifted his legs onto his bed and curled into a small, comfortable ball, a position he had gained from all of his nightmares. The knocking persisted, but the boy refused to get up and answer, or even open his mouth to invite the stranger in. Finally, the door opened and Dick entered the room, a small band-aid on his cheek and a larger one on his neck. He had light scars on his face, but nothing that could impair Dick's good looks. Surprised by the visit, Tim sat up, returning to his fetal position by hugging his knees to his chest. Dick closed the door behind him before posting his body against the closet opposite Tim's bed so that Nightwing may look at the boy.

"Dinner's done," Said the older crime fighter, "I told Alfred that I would tell you. He's been really tired lately so I thought I'd do him that kindness." Tim didn't respond. He turned his eyes away from Dick, casting them towards his wiggling toes. Although not looking at him, Tim could feel Nightwing's eyes on him, burning more guilt into the boy. His fingers twitched, his toes wiggled, and eyes danced between Nightwing's crossed arms and the bed sheets. It was silent for a moment until there was a small buzzing noise. Both crime fighters turned towards the sound and saw that the fly trapped in the room was trying to get out again. It tapped against the class several times, each time seeming more and more desperate to be released from the room. Tim's eyes remained on the fly, not diverting their attention from the bug as Dick approached the boy and sat on his bed.

"I know you've been locked in your room ever since the recon mission went wrong," Dick started, "And I've told you this before :it's not-"

"Yes it is," Tim interrupted with malice in his voice. He turned from the fly to stare into Nightwing's eyes, trying to burn the amount of guilt in his gut into Dick. "I killed Bruce." At this, Nightwing chuckled, shaking his head to and fro whilst playing with his fingers. To himself, he repeated, "I killed Bruce" under his breath, still chuckling with disbelief at the certainty in Tim's voice.

"Tim," Dick started, "You don't kill Bruce like that. He's too strong of a character to die from an explosion. Hasn't he gone missing like this before while you were around?" Tim thought on the question before nodding. There were several times Bruce would disappear, sometimes for months on end. He would only hear the end of it from Alfred were the man to do something incredibly stupid like coming home with the bones in his entire right arm completely fractured or an extremely deformed ankle. "See? You just don't kill Bruce with an exploding factory, especially if Joker rigged it. He'll be back. You just have to wait." It was a bit distressing to Robin at how hopeful Dick was. The older crime fighter was giving a reassuring smile, his chin up and confident in his words. At the continued smile, Tim felt a warm tingle in his fingertips and scratched them against his thigh. From there, it moved to his stomach and then his throat, rendering him incapable of responding with words.

"Master Tim," Alfred's voice sounded from the hall, "Master Dick? Oh, dinner is ready." Nightwing stood and went to the window. He un-hooked the lock and opened the window wide so that the fly could be released. "Thank you, Alfred," Dick said. Alfred nodded, and then turned to face Tim. He lowered his head in respect before offering his own smile.

"Yes, Alfred?" Tim asked, questioning the old man's eyes.

"Would you like to know how it is I deal with someone's absence, Master Tim?" The old man offered. Tim lifted his chin as an answer. "I find it easier to deal with Master Bruce's disappearance by acting as if he were still here. He's hardly out of his study as it is." The man servant gave another reassuring smile. Robin felt a knot in his stomach before it slowly melted away at the amount of ease being given by the other two males in the house.

"What's for dinner, Alfred?"

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><p><strong>Dear lord, can anyone say filler? Sorry it took so long. So many complications…<strong>

**So, reviews please! Anyone that reviews gets a hi-five from me mentally! I really wanna know if I'm doing well so, again, if this gets positive feedback, I'll continue.**

**-ryuzaki4**


	6. Chapter 6

**I've been reading the New 52. It's so amazing. Anyone wanna geek out over it, just send me a PM. **

**-ryuzaki4**

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><p><p>

Sweat beads rolled down Tim's temple. He felt a terrible pulsing in his arms, each beat sending throbbing vibrations into the tips of his fingertips and back up into his shoulders. For a half hour, Dick had left the boy posted on two balance beams, holding onto the now hot metal bars for his life. Tim strained only the last ten, but now the pain in his arms was unbearable. He looked at his legs, raised at a ninety degree angle to his torso. They were shaking, moving so much that his feet were never aligned side by side. He gasped.

"Hold the position, Tim," Dick constructed from the treadmill, "Not too much longer now."

"I think my arms are going to fall off," Tim huffed. Dick only chuckled and licked his thumb to turn the page of the book he was reading. Tim's arms began shaking violently until his elbows gave in and he collapsed onto the floor. He barely supported himself on the balancing beams as he gasped for air. He felt twitches in his muscles, as well as a terrible pulsing.

"You could have held on for much longer," Nightwing said, walking over to Tim and shaking his head, "When I was your age, I could go for an hour. Now it's – "

"I don't train for the trapeze like you do," Tim growled, lifting his body onto the balancing beam, "Besides, this isn't how I train."

"Well, maybe you should," The older crime fighter hoisted Tim up and walked him over to the treadmill, "Start jogging. I'm gonna go get a smoothie." Tim looked at Nightwing in disbelief, but the other male dismissed him and left the training room. As he proceeded down the staircase to the kitchen, the front doors began to open. From his place on the stairs, Dick watched Alfred help pull the doors open.

"Master Bruce!?" Pennyworth cried, hoisting the crippled body of Bruce Wayne into the manor.

"Bruce!" Dick rushed to his mentor's side, lifting the man's arm onto his shoulders to support him. With the relief of weight, Alfred rushed off, saying that he'd return with bandages and some water.

"Take me to my room," Bruce instructed. The trip was difficult, although a short one, due to Bruce's injuries in his side and leg. Once Batman was in his bed, Dick left and returned with Tim.

"Bruce, what happened to you?" Dick asked, stepping in front of Tim so that the boy's expression could not be seen. "Tim and I went looking for you for hours. We thought you …"

"In time, Master Bruce will answer your questions," Alfred insisted, "Right now he is in no condition to anything but rest. If you wouldn't mind." Tim and Dick nodded before walking out of the room in silence. Relief washed over Tim. He hadn't killed Batman after all. Dick, almost sensing this realization, slapped Tim on the back.

"Looks like you're not a murderer after all!" He exclaimed as the boys went down to the kitchen. Tim found no humor in the statement, especially since he was hit directly in a new bruise from his training with Nightwing last night. **_Thank God for that liniment. _**Dick led Robin the rest of the way to the kitchen, seeming happier than was necessary. He was smiling slightly with a small skip in his step. Tim only walked behind him, hands in his pockets. The duo took seats at the table, sitting side by side. As time passed, Dick grew restless. He began rapping his knuckles on the table and shaking his leg and tapping his feet and wiggling his body and snapping his fingers and stretching his shoulders and –

"Master Dick?" Alfred said, causing said male to jump in his seat, "Master Tim? Master Bruce will see you now." Both of the Robins stood and hastily rushed to Alfred's side.

"How is he Alfred," Dick asked, wringing his hands. It was too obvious he was nervous of Bruce's condition.

"Master Bruce is fine," Alfred reassured, "A bit banged up as always, but fine." As the trio approached Wayne's door, Alfred paused to face Dick and Tim. "Be very patient with Master Bruce," He said in a hushed voice, "He is a bit delirious and is still having trouble gripping his bearings."

"Is it a side effect of the explosion?" Tim asked, "Knowing Joker..."

"Possibly," The butler replied, "I have a sample of Master Bruce's blood. If you need me, I'll be running tests on it _downstairs_." At that, the old man left the company of the two young men. Dick pulled the door open, letting Tim inside first, before closing the door behind the two. It was dark in Bruce's room. The only light was emanating from the lamp on his bedside table, though even that cast a dim glow. The light spread across Bruce's face, casting a deep shadow over his eyes.

"Bruce?" Dick asked hesitantly.

"Who's there?" He asked, head turning in the direction of the males, "…Jason?" There was a heavy silence before Tim and Dick approached the bed.

"N..No," Tim responded, "It's Tim – "

"– and Dick," Nightwing knelt beside the bed, "Bruce, can you tell us what happened? What happened with Joker –? "

"He's going to blow the bridge," Wayne mumbled, "He's going to blow it up….explosives…." Dick looked in the direction of Tim who shook his head.

"Joker and Freeze, Bruce," Dick rephrased, "Remember? He had Tim and blew the building."

"No, the bridge!" Bruce made a movement to get up, but seemed to get dizzy. He clutched his head as he lowered himself back onto his bed. There was silence for a minute, a heavy dull silence that brought the weight of guilt back onto Tim's shoulders. Dick was silent, brow furrowed in distraught and fear. He clenched his fists by his side before taking in a deep, relaxing breath. He took another moment to pause and recollect himself. When he was calm again, he took a knee beside Bruce.

"Bruce," He started again calmly, "The last time I saw you, it was right before the warehouse exploded. Do you remember? Joker captured Tim, was mass producing explosives with Freeze. When the warehouse exploded, where were you?"

There was a pause.

"…Cape," Bruce said, "Flame retardant cape." Dick slapped his forehead. He had completely forgotten about Batman's cape.

"Where have you been, then?" Nightwing continued, "You survived the explosion. Then what happened?"

"Where is Alfred?" The bachelor groaned.

"Bruce, please," Dick continued, "What happened?"

"…Trapped under... rubble... Joker returned…"

"And did he gas you?"

"Hidden, hidden…" Bruce shook his head and waved his hand about, "…Looking for vial…Ground…" He groaned and wiped his forehead of sweat. "Overhead Freeze…"

"Freeze is working for Joker," Tim said in clarification. Bruce waved his hand about again.

"Nora," He croaked. Dick got off of his knee and went to the other side of the bed. He grabbed Tim by the shoulder and hoisted the boy on his feet. Against Tim's approval, Dick brought Tim to the bedroom door. Tim made a noise, questioning Nightwing's actions, but the older crime fighter didn't explain. Through the house, they made their way down to the Batcave, startling Alfred.

"He said Nora," Dick declared. Alfred only blinked in confusion. "Joker and Freeze are working together."

"Oh, dear," Alfred responded.

"Joker must be holding Freeze's wife hostage until whatever the clown wants is accomplished," Nightwing continued, "If we can rescue Nora then maybe Freeze will become neutral."

"Possibly even get him to tell us what he did for Joker," Tim proposed. Alfred was silent, considering the mission the boys were hinting on doing.

"Did Master Bruce say anything else?" He asked.

"He said Joker was looking for a vial," Dick shook his head as if the words meant nothing.

"And something about the ground," Tim continued.

"Perhaps the two of you should go on a recon mission," Alfred suggested, "It would be less dangerous than taking on Mr. Freis. I believe you should wait until Master Bruce is in better condition to embark on that mission."

"The building collapsed on him Alfred," Tim said, stepping forward from beside Dick, "Joker didn't notice him when he went back for the file. He said he was under the rubble."

"That explains why there were no traces of anything in Master Bruce's blood," Alfred said, turning to the results on the screen. There was a silence before Dick snapped his fingers.

"Let's suit up," He said, "And be prepared to fight someone. If Joker himself went looking for something, it has to be important, right?"

"It could be a trap," Tim offered. He looked between Nightwing and Pennyworth. "What if he wants us to think it's important and is luring us to a trap."

"Then we'll just have to be on our guard," Dick smirked.

"I'll give you some of Master Bruce's utilities," Alfred said, standing, "I'm afraid that he would be upset of this, but certain situations call for these things." The butler walked pass the boys before turning back around to smile at the two. "I'll be here connected to you. Whatever you need, just ring."

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><p><strong>This is a SHORT chapter, but I plan for the next chapter to be awesome and cool. Y'all are in for a treat. I hope to finish this before June because I'm moving and won't have internet for some time, but yeah.. I'll try and crank these bad boys out. It's supposed to get intense so I hope it gets intense. I've been referring to my boyfriend a.k.a. my Batman specialist as well as the comics and movies and games to get this thing together.<strong>

**Wow, so much talking. So! Anyone who reviews gets a hi-five! Mentally..**

**-ryuzaki4**


	7. Chapter 7

Nightwing and Robin landed side by side on a half-blown rooftop. Beneath them was the rubble from their last encounter with Joker. Surrounding the debris were ripped POLICE: DO NOT CROSS tapes and signs, and accompanying the tape were several police corpses. Tim felt his eyes widen at the bodies. He looked to Dick for some words of ease, but the older crime fighter was stoic and cold faced, even behind his mask. Robin clenched his teeth and stared back down at the bodies.

"It looks like the police came to investigate," He observed, "But when Joker came back looking for his vial.."

"He murdered them," Dick finished. The two continued to survey the area from their nest. Both were afraid to venture down to the crime scene, though neither would admit it to the other. Nightwing turned his heat scanner on, tapping the corner of his mask to activate it. Tim tapped his ear, turning on his three-way radio to Alfred and Nightwing.

"Pleased to see that the two of you have made it safely," Alfred's voice said into both of the boys' ears, "Master Bruce is still in his room. He has been examined and is now sleeping."

"Good to hear he's safe," Nightwing commented, relaxing a bit at the news, "Alfred, can you send us a scan of Freeze's casing?"

"Right away, Master Dick," Pennyworth said. Before both of their eyes, Dick and Tim could see the outer and inner workings and mechanisms of the exoskeleton shell Freeze created for Joker's "exploding" liquid. "It seems that the case is designed to keep the liquid at sub-zero temperatures."

"You think the liquid is only active when kept at such low temperatures?" Robin asked leaning over the edge of the roof he was perched on to look at more of the rubble.

"That would explain why the liquid vat under you didn't explode," Dick said, turning to face Tim, "But what would be the point of kidnapping you and holding you hostage over an inactive explosive?"

"A distraction," Tim tensed again.

"It seems that Joker is planning something dangerous," Alfred said to both of the boys, "I don't believe that the two of you should stay in that area."

"We'll do a heat signature scan of the area before heading out," Dick said, "See you back at home." Both of the males turned their radios off. Nightwing stood and looked about the area, looking for a safe way to venture to the ground. "Follow me," He instructed to Tim. Dick inched his way to the edge of the building, peeking over the edge several times to ensure that he was not too far from the beam of wood he was aiming for. He leapt off of the edge and turned several times in the air before catching his hands on the beam. He swung his body to and fro until he was high enough to dismount and land in a half destroyed room. From there, Nightwing bounded towards another broken beam and slid his way down it to land on a slab of rock. He looked up at Tim and motioned for the boy to follow. Tim rolled his eyes. He moved to the edge and, rather than going for the beam of wood, jumped straight towards the room. He did one flip in the air to ensure he landed in the destroyed building. When he landed he did one backflip off of it onto the beam and slid his way to meet Dick.

"All of what you did was unnecessary," Tim commented at the raised eyebrow on Nightwing's face. Nightwing chuckled as he moved his way to another slab of rock.

"Make sure you don't step on the floor," He said, "If Joker was here and looking for something, he'd probably blow it up than have either of us or Batman find it." With his heat signature still on, Nightwing looked and moved about the area. He paused whenever his scanner detected anything below the outside temperature, but several times it was only a water pipeline.

"Nightwing!" Tim called from the northwest area of the explosion site. The older crime fighter made his way towards Robin, afraid something terrible was found. In front of Tim was an area clear of debris. It was surrounded by land mines and in the middle of them all was the casing and a small flag that read: COME AND GET IT! Tim moved around the bombs, surveying it. Nightwing did the same, though looked with his eyes. He looked above the vial and saw a water pipe.

"Robin," Nightwing called to the boy, "There's a water pipe. If I lower you far enough, you could grab it and we wouldn't trigger the mines. Tim looked at the pipe before nodding as confirmation for the plan.

Once the bodies were positioned correctly, and Nightwing had taught Tim the proper position for hanging off of another's shoulders, the Robins were dangling off of the pipe, just above the vial. Tim swayed back and forth, afraid that he was going to topple towards the floor and be blasted into tiny bits of Boy Wonder. Nightwing grunted, repositioning his hold on the boy. "I got you," he reassured several times. Tim took in a deep breath and stretched his hand forward. First, he made contact with the vial, poking it gently with his forefinger to trigger any hidden explosives. When nothing happened, he took a slight grip on it and tugged. Nothing happened. Robin quickly yanked the vial from the ground and Nightwing pulled the boy away from contact with the mines. The two regrouped in a sitting position on the water pipe and sighed a breath of relief.

"That was way too easy," Robin noted.

Nightwing nodded. "Maybe it's a dud." They both looked at each other, questions in both their eyes. The two turned on their two-way.

"Yes?" Alfred's voice spoke through the ear pieces.

"Alfred, we've retrieved the vial that Batman said Joker was looking for, but.." Dick made a sighing noise.

"Is there a problem with the casing? Did it go off?"

"It's a dud," Tim said, "And it was way too easy to get."

"Bring it home, Master Tim," Alfred said, "Perhaps when Master Bruce is feeling better, he can give us some more insight as to what Joker has planned." Tim and Dick signed off before racing over the rooftops to Wayne Manor.

The trio did not need to wait too long for Bruce to heal. He forced himself to get better, getting up and walking around, going to the gym, traveling down to the Batcave. He never spoke to anyone, however. He seemed to refuse to make any form of verbal communication beyond painful grunts and sighs. When Bruce did recover, he seemed as if nothing had happened to him. He met Alfred, Dick, and Tim in the Batcave, reviewing the evidence that they had retrieved from the Robins' recon missions.

"So far,"Robin began debriefing, "We know that Joker is manufacturing a highly explosive liquid - "

"Which is encased in Freeze technology," Dick continued, "The sub-zero temperatures the case creates around the liquid is what makes it active – makes it go boom."

"And in order to order and reproduce these explosives," Tim took over, "Joker has captured Nora."

"We also investigated some foreign gravel in Gotham's countryside," Nightwing said, "Remember you found it in my motorbike?" Bruce nodded and was handed a folder of reports. "Well, we went back to pick up some of the dirt and – cross referencing the metal used in the casings – found similar alloys in both."

"So we have some idea as to where the liquids are coming or going from," Tim finished. Bruce flipped through the papers. "Another thing.. When we went back to find whatever Joker was looking for, there was a vial left for us to take." It didn't take long at all for Bruce to process all of the information given to him. Behind his solemn gaze, Tim swore he could see a twinge of pride somewhere behind those eyes. Bruce shut the folder that he was flipping through and sat at his computer, pulling files that he personally had found and loaded into the computer. It had a breakdown of all of the components and chemicals that were in the "explosive" that Joker was creating.

"The composition of the liquid compound is non-explosive," Bruce said, "Everything that Joker has shown us has been a dud, and not by accident. I've been scrambling the elements to see if there was a cryptic message in the liquid and found one, though it was pretty difficult. I'll see if you can figure it out." On the screen was the compound of the liquid in a three-dimensional atomic model.

Dick pointed and named the elements, "Nitrogen. Scandium. Boron. Two potassiums. Vanadium. Oxygen. Phosophorous." Nightwing racked his brain, trying to figure out what was the message in the chemical. "Hang on," he started, "What are those elements' numbers on the periodic table?"

"Seven, twenty-one, five, two nineteens," Bruce said, "twenty-three, eight, fifteen." Tim looked from Dick to Bruce. He had no idea what either was on to, but it seemed big. There was a heavy silence in the room, as if the gravity in the cave had increased due to the pressure on Nightwing to figure it out.

"G," Dick said.

"What?" Tim asked, confused.

"G," Grayson repeated, "G is the seventh letter of the alphabet. If you use the numbers of the elements as letter places on the alphabet.."

Tim murmured to himself as he figured it out. "Guess… Who?" Bruce nodded. "It was a riddle?" Another nod. "So Riddler's working with Joker and Freeze?"

"We have to eliminate Freeze from the equation," Bruce commented as if he were solving a mathematic equation, "His wife is being held hostage by joker. If I can find and retrieve Nora, Freeze should stop working with the clown."

"It's probably in a disclosed location," Dick said, "And not a place Freeze would want or imagine his wife would be held at."

"Well, Freeze needs sub-zero temperatures to survive," Robin pitched in, "It would make sense for Joker to hide her somewhere hot, somewhere Freeze could ever imagine his wife being." It was quiet.

"There's the smelting factory on the outskirts of Gotham," Dick stated, "As far as I know, it hasn't been shut down."

"I'll find Nora," Batman said, "You two look for more clues to see what the Riddler has to do with all of this." The boys nodded and the three parted ways.

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><p><p>

**I'm just realizing how slow this story is. I'm having trouble bringing the characters together and whatnot. May have writer's block so these chapters will be slow to update… Again. Kinda wish I had more time for this story. I love writing it so much..**

**I don't know if the string of elements actually makes something. If there happen to be any scientists or science enthusiasts who are able to tell me what I made, that would be great. Until then, let's pretend it's a stable compound.**

**Sorry for another short chapter with a lot of dialogue. I needed to explain everything somehow.. **

**So! Anyone who reviews gets a hi-five! Mentally..**

**-ryuzaki4**


	8. Chapter 8

**Holy cow! It's been, what? Six, seven months since I've updated this thing? Ugh.. I'm so sorry guys. Time seems to have gotten away from me when I was going about my life and this story has suffered for that. This wouldn't be the first time that I've neglected this thing though..**

**Well, if anyone is still following and reading, welcome back! I hope you stick with me and still have the patience for this super slow monster. If not, well it was nice while it lasted and I'm not sure why I'm typing this to you since you aren't committed to "A Bird In His Hand" any longer.**

**A slight filler. I'm actually focusing on Tim and Dick's romantic relationship while trying to figure out how to end this damn thing..**

**Enjoy.**

**-ryuzaki4**

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><p>Tim yawned as he continued clicking through a seemingly never-ending file of Riddler and Joker MO's. He looked across the room at Dick who was busy chewing loudly on his cereal and looking through his own files, probably searching for clues that the Bat Family had missed. How anything got pass Bruce was a mystery. The man was a living supercomputer with a vigilante complex. Dick looked up from his laptop screen to see Tim gazing at him from across the room and gave a small smile. With a forced frown, Robin looked down at his screen and rubbed his nose with an anxious touch, feeling the heat in his cheeks build. It had been a week since the group was assigned with the Riddler-Joker-Freeze job and they had found nothing. The smelting factory that Dick had offered as a hiding place for Nora's location turned out to be nothing more than a pile of rubble with heat emanating from the core where the bowels of the factory once were. Robin offered to enter and investigate, though it was turned down. The levels of heat in the factory were too high and unstable for anyone to enter and exit without gaining any serious burns. And thus the group was back at square one. It was suggested by Tim that every destination could line up in some way to reveal a location that Joker wanted to be found at. Upon further investigation of this theory, nothing was found: no algorithim, no formula, just places on the city map. It was frustrating. It was no help either that the villainous trio had remained quiet since the discover of the Riddler's initiation into the group. And now the Bat Family was backtracking and revisiting and asking and thinking again and again. It was a pain really.<p>

Suddenly a wad of paper bounced of of Tim's head. Looking up at the direction it was thrown from, Tim found himself glaring at a very pleased grown man who had just successfully pelted a teenage boy in the head. Rolling his eyes, Tim dismissed the childish act and continued clicking throug his files. Bonk. Another wad of paper bounced from his forehead to the floor. With a disgruntled growl, Tim slouched in his seat so that his face could not be seen over his laptop. Not even a minute passed before another small wad landed on the boy's head. Irritated, Tim slapped the paper away and shot Dick a glare as menacing as he could muster. The other man just smiled and chuckled, readying another piece of paper to be launched at the boy. This time, Tim let himself become aware of the older male's movements and, when the projectile was launched, managed to slap the piece of paper directly into Nightwing's face. Shock dressed the older man as the younger one became riddled with giggles. Occasionally he would let a small snort escape, but the laughing only ceased when the boy fell from his seat.

"Whoa, Tim," Dick moved to the boy, a few chuckles escaping his lips, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Tim's laughter died out. When Nightwing reached out to help the boy up, the younger slapped his hand away and stood up on his own. "I said I'm fine."

"Okay, okay," Dick raised his hands and took a few steps back, ensuring Robin that he was not going to touch him. Tim sat back in his seat and placed his laptop in his lap once more. He eyed Grayson as the older teen sat down, a smile on his face. Tim rolled his eyes at the smug face on the other fighter before sticking his face back into his research. As soon as he focused on the information, he instantly became bored.

"You know, this sucks," Dick sighed. The sound of his laptop clicking closed called Tim's attention. The younger watched as the other crime fighter set his laptop aside and headed for the stairs. Dick paused and turned around to Tim, "You wanna go on a recon mission?" Tim blinked. "Well, maybe we can find something out if we cruise around Gotham. We'll probably find some thugs we could beat something out of."

Tim pursed his lips. "But Bruce said we should stay inside." Robin closed his own laptop, as well. "Last time I got caught by Freeze and.. Well, we should figure out - "

"Oh, come _on_," Dick crossed his arms in front of his chest, "You don't really believe that, do you? I hate sitting around when I know I could be doing something to help, and I can see in your bored face that you feel the same way. Besides, we won't get in trouble if we come back with something." Tim frowned. It seemed out of character for Nightwing to be saying any of this. Usually he was one to keep Tim in line when it came to Batman's orders. Still, Dick was probably just as worried about Bruce as Tim was, especially since the man had only just healed from the explosion in Freeze's warehouse. Tim would not deny it either. He was itching to get out of the house and at least beat up several thugs. If they had any information on Joker or Freeze, it would only be a bonus. Tim stood.

"I'm coming with you," He said. Dick smiled.

It was liberating being in costume again. Tim bounded from one rooftop to the next, sometimes leading Nightwing in this direction or that. Neither had a specific reason to be out other than the fact that they could not stand being stuck in front of a computer for another day. Having to sit and do nothing but click was foreign to both of the boys, especially when they had become accustomed to fighting a thug or scoping out a joint every night or two. To the left of Tim, Nightwing somersaulted through the air. The sheer joy on his face boosted the butterflies that had sprouted in Tim's stomach and the boy mimicked his partner. He launched himself off a rooftop and did a flip before landing and rolling towards his next target. After what seemed like an hour, both of the boys slowed their pace before stopping atop an apartment building. Several people spotted the duo and pointed and waved, but no one payed them any real attention. Nightwing laughed, sitting on the rooftop to try and catch his breath. Tim, swallowing his own gulp of air, stood beside his partner who sat with his legs outstretched. The two sat in silence, listening to the sounds of the city play out before them. It seemed to be a quiet night, though both knew otherwise. There was something brewing in the streets, but neither were sure what or how to stop it. There was an air of helplessness between the two, but that died once Nightwing began speaking.

"Did you notice anything while we were.." He took a deep breath, "Running around?"

Robin nodded. "I spotted some gunmen on the rooftop of the bank. I don't think they saw us, and they just seemed to be patroling."

Nightwing made a noise of agreement. "I saw them, too. You don't think there was a robbery, do you?"

"Without the police or Batman noticing?" Tim paused before shrugging, "Maybe a distraction. I don't think Joker knows that we're seperated from Batman, yet. Either way, we should check it out." Nightwing sat up, stretching his legs before standing fully erect.

"That's what I was thinking, too," He said. "Let's head back. You take the south side and I'll take the north. Try to make sure they don't see you, or they'll alert whatever operation is going on and we might miss something." Tim nodded and the two set off. Following orders, Tim took the south side of the bank. He hid behind an air duct to inspect the area. Pressing one finger to the side of the mask, he zoomed in on the goons.

"They're all armed," Tim spoke loud enough so that his radio could pick it up, "Every single one has an automatic weapon."

"That's what I'm seeing, too," Nightwing answered. Tim looked around the area to see if there were any height advantages to defeating the thugs.

"There's another rooftop a couple meters away that gives us a perspective advantage," He informed the other, "If we can get up there unnoticed, I'm sure we could replace their watchtower and see what it is they were guarding."

"Alright," Nightwing said, 'I'll meet you up there." Robin stared down at the thugs. There were two that were constantly facing the south side and another pair staring towards the north. Three other men were walking the perimeter of the roof, scoping out what the others could not see. Their nonchalant demeanor told Robin that they had been waiting up on the roof for a while and had encountered nothing. Finding that his best bet was to climb down and then up, Robin headed closer to the streets. Bouding over roofs and then sliding his way down through the emergency fire escapes, Robin found himself three houses over. Once he was firmly planted on the ground, he took off in the direction of the thugs. He ran pass several people on the streets, some pointing him out and exclaiming, "Oh, look! It's Robin!" There were even some teens Tim's age that taunted him for his costume. All the Boy Wonder did was ignore them and continue in his direction. It was, actually, the first time he had ever done anything without Batman to guide him in any direction. Tim and Dick were alone with no idea where the Caped Crusader was. The tingling sensation of dread rose on Tim's skin. What were to happen if the two could not handle this mission on their own? What if they died?

Tim shoved those thoughts aside as he neared the bank. Rounding into an alley way, Tim leapt from the dumpster to the opposing wall. From there, he used his momentum to launch himself at another fire escape, catching the releasable ladder and then swinging his body up onto the metal rigging. Running up the steps, Robin found himself on the roof a good distance away from the thugs. He crouched on the corner of the rooftop and was granted a bird's eye view of the thugs and in front of the Gotham bank. There was nothing. Tim furrowed his eyebrows. That was not right. Backing away, Robin activated his radio to Nightwing.

"There's nothing on the streets," He said, "Do you think there are people already inside?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm thinking," Nightwing responded.

"Should we take these guys out first?"

"Yeah, but make sure you're not seen at all, alright?"

"Gotcha."

Tim waited until the two guys closest to him were open. Once he ensured that they were, he leapt from the building, somersaulted in the air, and landed behind the two men without making the slightest noise. Tim looked behind him and saw the patrolling men making their rounds back towards him. He had to act fast. Slowly, he crept up behind one and covered both the man's nose and mouth and -

"Hey!" The other man called out, cocking his gun. Tim, in a moment of panic, used the other man to shield himself from the gun. Several shots were fired into the goon before he died, falling limp against Robin. The boy wanted to scream as the body crushed him against the floor and pinned him down.

"Looks like we just caught Robin!" One of the men cried.

"Aw, Tony, no!" Another goon moaned.

"Ah, shaddup!" Said a third, "Boss said there might be a casualty or two. He never specified on which team, now shut it! Let's dump this guy and take the kid." Several hands moved on the body, some of them taking a hold of Robin's body so that he could not move once the corpse was lifted from his person. Like that would matter. Tim was in shock. He had used a man to shield himself, and because of him, the man died. Villain or no, Tim had let someone be killed. Tears stung at the boy's eyes as the situation began to settle in. He blinked them away and swallowed hard.

"What the - !?" One of the hands let go of Robin, "It's Nightwing!"

"What's a Nightwi - " There was a loud crack! as Nightwing's escrima sticks landed hard against one the thugs' face. The sound of shattering bones sounded and the man cried out in pain. "My nose! Agh! Get - get him!" The goons let go of Robin and cocked their weapons. Before one could advance on the crime fighter, Nightwing threw one of his escrima sticks at one of the men's diaphram. Once the object left his hands he jumped at another. Tripping the man's feet with his own booted ones, Nightwing activated the taser in his last escrima stick and shocked the goon advancing on him. The man who was tripped made to stand when Nightwing tased him as well, causing the man to black out. The goon who was first hit caught his breath and made to smack Dick with the butt of his gun only to have it taken and smashed in his face. He fell to the floor with a loud thud. The two remaining, who were all still lifting the corpse off of Robin, gave nervous glances to each other.

"I only need one of you conscious," Nightwing said, "Now which is it going to be?" Both of the men tossed their weapons to the other side of the roof and got down on their knees. "Good boys," Nightwing nodded. He walked over to fetch his missing escrima stick and returned to the men to shock both until they were unconscious. Nightwing went to Robin and helped the boy up. Although shaken, Robin was able to stand on his own, though he did not speak a word.

"I probably should have kept one," Nightwing said. He turned over the nearest goon to see a big question mark on the back of his jacket. "What would Riddler want with the bank?" Nightwing turned to Robin and frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I...I let that guy die," The boy said, "I let him die. I used his body to shield me. I used him and he died."

'Things happen," Nightwing sighed, "We need to keep things in priority. I understand you're shaken up, but - "

"He's dead!" Tim shoved Nightwing, "He's dead and you tell me to get over it?"

"This isn't the first time in our line of work that someone's life has been taken!" Nightwing countered. He stepped closer to Robin, using his height as an advantage to set the boy in his place, "People die, Robin. Sometimes it's our fault and sometimes it isn't. If it isn't those close to us, we need to move on." Tim opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came to him. Nightwing was right. Biting his lip, Robin took in a deep breath. There was a moment of silence between the two before Nightwing slowly pulled Tim into a hug. Robin stiffened at the embrace.

"What're you doing?" He asked, confused.

"I'm consoling you," Nightwing said, "You still seem shaken up."

"I'm.." Tim felt his hands shaking and clenched them into tight fists, "I'm fine." He did not push Nightwing away. It was a nice embrace. It sent a warm sensation to his stomach and helped ease the guilt that was building there. After several more seconds of silence in Nightwing's arms, Tim pushed the older crime fighter away.

"It was getting awkward," He huffed. Nightwing stepped back, a smalle smile on his face.

"I - "

"Well, well, well!" Riddler's voice called, "Looks like the Dynamic Duo means another thing this time around! Now, I see you've taken out my men, but that's not all that important. What _is _important is what's about to unfold in the comings to come. Now, riddle me this: When is a floor like a puzzle?"

"_What?_" Tim made a face.

"Crap," Nightwing said.

There was a loud boom and the roof beneath the two fell apart.

* * *

><p><strong>Haha, whoa what a bad chapter. But d'aww they hugged, and yes the man died for a reason. It's coming back. Shush. And so is the hug. It will be explained. Don't fret. Seriously, everything is going to be explained later. Like I said, it's just a little slow.<strong>

**Also there's a little ditty in there so kudos to anyone that recognizes it..**

**So! Anyone that reviews get a high-five! Mentally.. Thank you for sticking with me and I promise to you I'll finish this!**

**-ryuzaki4**


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